


Untitled

by limitlessskyes



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Frottage, Grinding, Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:06:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limitlessskyes/pseuds/limitlessskyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared Boll hadn't liked Dan Carcillo from the moment he saw him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

October 10th, 2007. Round one. Jared Boll hadn't liked Dan Carcillo from the moment he saw him. Maybe it was the internal fighter instinct, but he knew this one would be trouble. It wasn't that he wanted Carcillo to be a problem, he just knew it was bound to happen. There was too much mischief in the Coyote's eyes that Jared was all too aware lurked behind his own eyes on the ice.

While he knew that he'd be trouble, what he didn't expect was the ferocity with which the other fought. Jared had three inches and ten pounds on the older fighter but the fight wasn't so clear cut as to determine a winner. It wasn't something Jared was used to. If there was one thing about Jared that everyone knew, it was that there was no middle ground. It was win or lose, and he would keep going until he won.

~~~

December 20th, 2008. Round two. And this time, there wasn't much middle ground. Jared had Dan pinned against the glass and in between the flurried punches, there was a hint of something else that completely took Jared off guard, resulting in Dan getting a temporary upper hand. And when he thought back to it, it wasn't so surprising after all.

Lust. Pure, animalistic, assert yourself as alpha male lust.

Lust that spilled into the time after the game. Grasping hands and low throated growls during a wrestle for dominance on a seedy hotel bed, nowhere near Columbus' team hotel. There was no way Jared would admit this to anyone, not even Kris. A fight for dominance that neither seemed able to win.

Biting teeth, scratching nails turned into thrusting hips, clutching hands, wordless pleas for more, but neither wanting to give ground to get more. Finally, release, hot and messy against flat stomachs, each panting for breath, the lust cooling to mischief once again.

There was nothing but middle ground here. And maybe, just maybe, Jared was okay with not winning for once.

Besides, there was always round three.


End file.
